A miracle occurs.
Initial Plot: A pair of assassins are stopped during their work by the appearance of an angel.
Feuer had stopped when Wulf did. “I think that he’s that way,” Wulf said quietly, sinking down to the ground.
“’That way’,” said Feuer, scoffing. “Can you be a little more specific?”
“What do you want me to stell you, east by twenty-four degrees? Are you an Ack-ack that I can direct you like that?”
“You don’t even know how to aim one of those.”
Wulf turned from him. “That doesn’t matter right now.”
“What matters is an assassination.”
Wulf nodded. Eule, the young man who was the general’s private secretary, had been beaten and accused of being homosexual. The latter was possibly true, but it was still a member of their SS unit that was accused; and it was up to the select few to defend him.
Der Jagermeister had said not to do anything, that he would take care of it, and if he knew what they were about to do, he may have stopped them. May have. Yet they weren’t Zauberen for nothing.
Wulf kept guiding him down the slope, past the sentries that were asleep against a tree. Feuer contemplated setting them on fire to wake them up, but he didn’t do it. Wulf was the guide, the man of good fortune, and seemed to be able to find his way around easily.
They went around a few corners and ended up among the tents. He stopped short, and Feuer walked right into him. Both men held their breaths. A man walked right by them, whistling, carrying nothing, but heading out into the woods. They breathed as he went past the tents.
Both men were thoroughly aware of what would happen when two SS men from the Zauberen were caught skulking around the 23rd Tank Regiment here in France. If they were lucky, they would be turned over to their CO and Der Jagermeister would exact punishment. If they were not, they would be shot. They were both depending that the former would be the worst case scenario.
Wulf walked around tents, keeping to the darkness, and muttering greetings to men who walked by them, disguising his voice and making it sound like it came from the rough woods of the Black Forest. Feuer kept quiet, nodding his greeting. Finally, Wulf stopped at a tent. He began untying it.
“Are you sure?” whispered Feuer.
Wulf gave him a look that silenced him.
He finished untying the tent and ducked inside. Feuer glanced around him – if he let loose here with his ability, the whole place would go up like kindling. Feuer whispered to Wulf, “We need to get him out of here.”
“It’s both of them,” he replied in a hushed whisper. “They took turns.”
Feuer moved left and Wulf moved right, pulling out the black-bladed SS hunting dagger. The one on the right heard the noise and almost got up, but Wulf leapt upon him, one hand over the man’s mouth, the blade pressed into his throat, and his body straddling his middle. Feuer did the same, centering his weight as Blut had taught them, except his finger pressed into the base of the man’s neck.
“Shh,” Wulf said, glancing sideways at Feuer to make sure he was all right. Feuer was smaller than this man on the cot, but there were tricks they all knew to compensate.
“Do you know who we are?” asked Feuer, still trying to keep things quiet. He leaned forward so he could see the SS lightning slash on the collar tab.
“We are Zauberer,” said Wulf. “You hurt one of our own.”
The man stared at Wulf, his eyes wide, but the other man started making noise and tried to throw Feuer off of him. Feuer made his hand hot and placed it on the man’s chest. They could all smell burning clothes. “Quiet, you, or I’ll put a hole in your chest and pull out your heart.”
The man grew quiet.
“You will apologize to the man you hurt,” Wulf said. “You will beg his forgiveness when you see him next, and we will make certain that it will be soon, is this understood?”
“Or,” said Feuer, “We will mark you the same way you marked him, and permanently.”
Wulf slowly eased off the man, and when he did, he felt someone grab him by the shoulder.
“Feuer–”
Whoever grabbed him whipped him around, throwing him out of the tent. Feuer’s hands exploded in fire, and he saw who it was.
“Feuer, no!”
It was a man, all in white, but not really a man – because he had wings.
“Oh, my God.”
“Not really,” said the angel, and gazed at Feuer. “He is under my protection, Zauberer.”
“He hurt our man.”
“And he will be punished most severely. It is not your place, not now, not yet.”
Wulf did not keep his voice down. “Feuer! Now!”
The angel stepped aside, and Feuer walked between him and the tent to get outside. “Now….Now,” Wulf said, grabbing Feuer by the arm and dragging him into the night.